


in the middle of the night, think i'm doing this right

by mmxii



Category: Druck | SKAM (Germany)
Genre: Druck Fandom Gift Exchange, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-29
Updated: 2019-11-29
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:55:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21608662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mmxii/pseuds/mmxii
Summary: Matteo should be asleep by now. He doesn’t know why he isn’t -- only, it’s probably David’s fault. Or, maybe there's more to it.or: matteo is having A Night™. good thing he doesn’t have to deal with it alone.
Relationships: Matteo Florenzi/David (Druck)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 115





	in the middle of the night, think i'm doing this right

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DecayingPapers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DecayingPapers/gifts).



> so this is my druck fandom gift exchange gift for [marta](http://sweterki.tumblr.com)!! ♥
> 
> this started out as one thing and then ended up as something else so ehhh sorry?? i hope u still like it?? im not sure if i do though ive been staring at this for too long i genuinely dont know what i think anymore but ashfjdfh WHATEVER at least its done!! and i had fun writing it so,,, thats good!!
> 
> also sorry i have no idea how this turned into almost 11k words.... i did not mean for this to happen but its not like its surprising since this is usually how it goes when i write things... i just cant shut up as u can probably tell from this right here lmao oh god lisa enough!! just go to sleep!!!
> 
> sjhdfgjsah GOD im so fucking nervous about posting this i might just pass out BUT ANYWAYS i really hope u like it!!
> 
> title from wdwgily by syml

_zero._

Matteo should be asleep by now.

He doesn’t know why he isn’t. The conditions would be ideal for falling asleep if you asked pretty much anyone else; the room is dark and quiet, and his bed is neither too hot nor too cold. This, the fact that all those factors have aligned tonight, is a rare occurrence seeing as he lives with other people, as well as in the middle of the city, so there’s usually some noise or light seeping into his room from somewhere.

Not tonight, though. And maybe that is why Matteo isn’t sleeping, despite the fact that he’s exhausted, and has been pretty much since he woke up this morning. Maybe he’s too used to cursing at the damn street light outside his window whose light always finds a way inside no matter which way he pulls the curtains. Maybe he’s too used to hearing one of his roommates watching tv or making some late night snack in the kitchen.

Or maybe, _maybe_ , he’s still awake because, no matter how much he tries, he can’t make his brain slow down enough to let him fall asleep.

At least not again. Because, see -- he _was_ asleep. He was, up until about two hours ago when he woke up from his accidental nap. It didn’t last long, only around an hour or so, but apparently that was enough to trick his brain into thinking he’s done with sleep for the night, despite the tiredness he’s still feeling.

It’s not that late, really -- just a little past midnight -- so he hasn’t given up all hope quite yet, but he can feel himself lose some with every passing minute. It doesn’t help that the voice inside his head whose main goal in life is to search for anything that could possibly be classified as a failure keeps getting louder and louder. Keeps reminding him of his shortcomings.

Matteo can’t help but agree tonight, at least to a certain degree. Because he’s been trying his best to get into a routine lately, since he knows that having one is something that will make things easier for him, make him feel better. Fixing the mess that has been his sleep schedule has been the first step, to avoid nights like this. Also, to avoid waking up at three thirty in the afternoon only to realise he’s wasted basically the whole day on sleeping, rendering the rest of the day pretty much useless. Making _him_ feel useless.

And so far it’s worked quite well. He’s managed to fall asleep before midnight every weekday for the past two weeks, and he’s always up before noon, even on the days where he doesn’t have anywhere to be.

And it’s been _good_. He knows it’s been great for him. Which is why he’s starting to actually chime in when the voice keeps chanting _failure, failure, failure_. He’s fucked it all up. He should’ve tried harder.

He turns over to lie on his back, trying to make out the lines of the panels making up the ceiling just to distract his thoughts from continuing too far down the self-destruction path. He knows his brain keeps lying to him, keeps making mountains out of molehills, but knowing something and actually believing it aren’t always the same thing.

_Fuck_.

He really should be asleep right now. All of this should be more than enough for him to fall asleep, so why isn’t he? Why is this so difficult? What else could one even _need_?

(Well, if he’s completely honest, there is one part to all of this that could be significantly better, but he’s trying not to think about that too much, or sleeping definitely will be a mission impossible.)

He’s been staring blankly at his ceiling for what feels like an eternity when he reaches a breaking point, feeling as if he’s literally going to lose his mind if he keeps this up for any longer. So, he gives in, ignoring the part of him that tries to yell at him that he shouldn’t. That he’s asking for too much, expects too much, _is_ too much.

The light coming from his phone feels like the equivalent to staring straight into the sun -- and Matteo wonders, not for the first time, how hard it could be to make a phone where the brightness of the screen could be lowered enough to use the phone in the dark as well without getting blind in the process -- but it’s a small price to pay for the possible reward it could lead to.

He reads through the last received message in the chat once more -- _I guess you must’ve been really tired if you fell asleep right before the end of the parrot story haha. Good night, see you tomorrow_ ♥ -- then sends one back.

_are you awake?_

After sending the text, it takes less than a minute -- during which Matteo has to deal with another round of unwelcome thoughts trying to convince him he shouldn’t have sent it at all -- before his phone lights up with an incoming call.

“Hi,” Matteo answers, the mere fact that this call is actually happening is enough to calm him down slightly, making him relax further into his pillow.

“So, _now_ you’re awake, huh?” David says, sounding amused. 

“Unfortunately.”

“Well, that’s what you get for taking a nap at 9 pm.” 

“That’s all your fault,” Matteo argues.

“Really?” David says, and Matteo doesn’t have to see David to know there’s an unimpressed expression on his face. “And how did you work that one out?”

“You were the one talking, so you should take the blame here.”

“What are you implying? That the sound of my voice makes you fall asleep?”

“Yeah,” Matteo says, then hurries to add “But like, in a good way! It’s a compliment.”

David snorts. “If you say so.”

There’s silence on the line for a moment, except for the sound of David’s breathing, and Matteo doesn’t know how it works, it shouldn’t work like this, maybe, probably, but he feels grounded now, less like he’s losing grip of reality. 

Although, as much as he enjoys the quiet, it doesn’t take long before it threatens to become too much.

“I can’t sleep,” Matteo says, just to say _something_ , and the short laugh David lets out goes straight to his heart.

“Oh, really?” David says, voice full of sarcasm, which Matteo ignores.

“Come over,” he says instead, the words leaving his mouth before he’s even thought them through properly. He feels a bit bad for asking, but he also can’t help it, because that’s really all he wants right now. It’s the whole reason he reached out in the first place, the chance that it could result in him not having to suffer alone.

David, however, doesn’t seem to be as easily convinced as Matteo might have hoped.

“It’s the middle of the night.”

“And?”

“Why don’t you come here?”

Matteo whines. “David.”

“It’s cold! And late. And I’m actually tired.”

“I am as well! I just can’t sleep.”

“So you’ve said. And I think we’ve already established whose fault that is, right?”

“Yeah, yours. Which is why you should be the one to make an effort here.”

“ _Matteo_.”

“ _David_ ,” Matteo mimics.

“You basically just said my voice is like a sleeping pill, though,” David says. “I could just keep talking and before you know it we’ll have a repeat of earlier.”

And sure, that’s not unlikely. Still, that’s not what Matteo _wants_ here. He’s made it this far, so he’s not about to give up quite yet.

“David,” he says again, and maybe he’s close to begging now, but he’s not above that. “Please.”

There’s a deep sigh, followed by a few seconds of silence, and Matteo fears he might’ve pushed it too far now, fears he really did ask for too much. But then David says “ _Fine_ ”, in a way Matteo thinks is meant to sound like he’s just giving in, but mostly it just sounds fond.

“I’ll see you soon then,” David continues.

“Yeah,” Matteo says. Then -- when the level of anxiety is pushed back down into nothing -- with his voice bright and excited again, he lets out a cheeky “Have a nice trip!”, and ends the call before David can say anything back.

The message he recieves shortly after that, containing only a single emoji, makes him grin stupidly in the darkness.

**David, 00:48**

🖕

  
  


+

  
  


_one._

It’s almost an hour later before David actually shows up, which is long enough as it is without the time dragging out as if it were at least twice as long. Matteo hasn’t come any closer to falling asleep either, but he’s still feeling exhausted, so when he opens the front door and finally -- _finally_ \-- sees David there, he can’t help but just collapse into him as soon as he steps inside the apartment.

Not even the fact that David is all wet is enough to stop him.

“Took you long enough,” Matteo murmurs into David’s neck, feeling David’s breath in his hair as he exhales.

“There, there,” he says, voice full of fake sympathy as he pats Matteo’s head.

Matteo just pushes himself closer, buries his nose into the cold skin by David’s neck and brings his hands up to pull at his jacket to get rid of any space that’s left between them. It’s something he’s done countless times before, so it’s not that surprising to him that he’s able to tell when something is different. Which it is tonight, enough so that Matteo even pulls back a bit to take a proper look at David. Or, more specifically, David’s clothes.

“How many layers are you actually wearing?” 

“Do you know how fucking cold it is?” David replies, reaching up to unzip his jacket. He leaves no room for Matteo to answer before he continues. “No, because you’re not the one who had to spend forty-five minutes outside in the middle of the night in november.”

Matteo just looks at him. “Did you take your bike here?”

“And risk actually getting hypothermia? No, I took the bus.”

“Well, then it’s more like _twenty_ minutes outside,” Matteo says, just to be difficult.

David groans. “I swear to god, I will leave right now and go back home.”

“No, you won’t,” Matteo tells him, and he knows he’s right. Still, he squeezes David closer again, just in case. Also, because the space he gave David to start getting his layers off is getting too much and it’s been almost a _minute_ , and Matteo is _tired_ , okay.

The sound of the door closing -- which Matteo had forgotten all about until he heard that noise -- is followed by a deep sigh from David as he resigns, hugging back as he lets Matteo put a temporary stop to his attempt at undressing. 

“The things I do for you,” David says, but his voice is light, teasing.

Matteo closes his eyes -- doesn’t allow his brain to twist that into something it isn’t -- hugs David impossibly closer, then lets out a whisper into the space below David’s left ear. “Thanks.”

There’s no reply at first, but then Matteo can feel David press a kiss into his hair.

“Well, it’s not a totally selfless act,” David says. “I have to admit there are a few benefits to this for me as well.”

“Yeah, I’m amazing.”

“Hm, you’re not that bad, I guess,” David says, and Matteo would fight him, only it’s almost one thirty in the morning, and has he mentioned he’s tired?

What he does is nothing. He just stays where he is, leaning all his weight onto David, and breathes, the rhythm slow and steady. There comes a point where he actually thinks he might fall asleep like this, while still standing, in the middle of the hallway.

He doesn’t, though. He doesn’t know how long they stay like that, either, the time melting into something indistinguishable, the seconds blending into minutes and then back again. He only knows that it hasn’t been long enough -- never is long enough -- when David eventually breaks the silence.

“Okay, this is nice and all but I really want to get out of these clothes now.”

Matteo pulls back enough to raise an eyebrow at him, making David shake his head with an amused smile.

“Of course this is the most awake you’ve looked since I got here.”

Matteo shrugs the best he can while still not letting go of David.

“Seriously,” David continues. “I’m still freezing. And _wet_. And I didn’t expect it to rain so I chose the wrong shoes and my socks are soaked, which really isn’t helping matters.”

“Mh... hot,” Matteo deadpans.

David laughs, pushing at Matteo’s arms to get him to loosen his grip. “Fuck off and let go of me.”

That doesn’t seem like a good idea to Matteo though, who instead just squeezes David tighter in protest.

“Matteo!” David says, his voice louder than it should be at this hour.

“Shhh!” Matteo says, putting a hand over David’s mouth to shut him up. “It’s the middle of the night.”

David pulls the hand away seemingly without any effort at all. “Shhh yourself!” he counters. “You’re the one making all the noise!”

“No, I’m not.”

David takes a deep breath, and then, fast enough that Matteo doesn’t even see it coming, he starts to pull himself free from Matteo’s grip. What follows is a bit of a struggle, but it’s not that much later before there are two whole meters separating them. It might as well be an entire ocean, with the way Matteo sees it.

So, he pouts at David, then takes a step closer with the intention to get close enough to lean on him again. He doesn’t get that far, however, before David holds up a finger in warning. 

“Just give me a minute,” he says, but that just won’t do.

“Ten seconds,” Matteo counters.

David shakes his head tiredly. “Fine, ten seconds.”

As soon as David agrees, Matteo starts to count down out loud, making David laugh again -- which in turn makes Matteo feel like he’s floating. This, all of this, is exactly what he needed. And so much better than sleeping. Maybe he did something right, after all. Huh.

Taking a tiny step closer with every second, the space between them is almost non-existent once more when Matteo reaches zero. By then, David is left in just the one layer, as well as his beanie -- which Matteo promptly pulls off him and drops somewhere on the floor. It’s not important. What is, is the way David’s hair feels between Matteo’s fingers as he runs them through it. Also: the way David smiles at him when Matteo proceeds to intentionally mess it up.

David squeezes Matteo’s side in retaliation. “Cut it out.”

“It’s too late now,” Matteo says, leaning back to inspect his work, then smiling at the exaggerated pout on David’s face.

“I’m still cold,” David says, and this, at least, is a problem Matteo knows how to solve.

“I can help you with that,” he says, grabbing David by his hand to drag him into his bedroom. “Come on.”

  
  


+

  
  


_two._

  
  


“Do you wanna watch a movie?”

They’ve made their way to Matteo’s bed, David having changed out of his clothes, which were varying degrees of wet, and into a pair of sweatpants and socks that belong to Matteo. His shirt had remained dry thanks to the two hoodies and the jacket he wore over it, but he had still removed it for a moment so he could take off his binder, before putting it back on. Matteo’s shirt, on the other hand, had absorbed enough water from David’s jacket that he needed to change it before getting into bed, or he would’ve made the sheets all damp as well.

Despite getting rid of his wet clothes, the chill doesn’t seem to leave David seeing as he’s quick to pull the blankets over them, then hugging Matteo close to seek as much warmth as possible. Not that Matteo is complaining.

The fingers David keeps running up and down Matteo’s arm are light, but still present enough to make it difficult for Matteo to focus on the question at first. It’s not until David repeats it that Matteo finally answers.

“No, I’m just going to fall asleep within the first five minutes.”

“Isn’t that the whole point to this? You actually sleeping,” David says.

Matteo just hums noncommittally; he doesn’t really care either way now. Sure, that’s been his main goal for the night, and there’s still that voice, although more distant this time around, yelling at him about failure. But there are more important things for him to focus on now.

Yes, having David here means that falling asleep will probably be easier this time. And yes, sleeping is nice, and he needs it, he really does. But so is David. And he needs this too. So, if it happens, then it happens. If it doesn’t -- well, he doesn’t have anywhere to be tomorrow anyway, so it wouldn’t be the worst thing.

He buries his face into David’s hair and lets out a slow exhale, closing his eyes as his body relaxes further into David’s side.

“I still can’t believe you fell asleep right before the end of the parrot story,” David says then.

“Oh, right. Sorry,” Matteo mumbles. “Can you finish it now?”

David lets out a dramatic sigh. “No, it was a once in a lifetime chance, and you missed it.”

Matteo leans back slightly to poke at David’s face, but David ignores him.

“An epic story of life and death,” he continues, sweeping a hand through the air above them in some grand gesture. “A villain who doesn’t yet know their fate, who never expected their good intentions to turn into disaster.”

Matteo snorts. “You know you keep raising my expectations with every word you say, right?” he asks, making David sigh again, although this time it just sounds defeated.

“Yeah, I know. I’ve ruined it now.”

“No, I’m sure it’s still good.”

“No, like you said -- your expectations are too high now and this story is not going to live up to them.”

Matteo pokes at him again. “David, I don’t care. I just want to know how it ends.”

“Do you even remember how it begins?” David asks, and -- well.

The truth is, he doesn’t. He remembers himself telling David about how Abdi and Carlos kept sending pictures of parrots in their group chat for who knows what reason -- honestly, Matteo couldn’t be bothered to read through every message they sent, especially when half of it is stupid shit like that. Then David had said something along the lines of “Speaking of parrots, I need to tell you this story”, and... that’s pretty much as far as his memory goes.

Or, there is one more thing he does remember. 

“Something about a parrot and... Laura’s friend?” Matteo says, phrasing is more like a question in case of the very high possibility that his attention had started to slip even sooner than he had realised.

“Yes,” David says. “Her name is Andrea, by the way.”

“The parrot?”

David pulls at Matteo’s hair. “Stop being stupid and pay attention, because this is your second and last chance to hear the end of this story.”

“All right, fine. I’ll be good,” Matteo promises.

“Anyway, like I said earlier before you fell asleep. Or maybe when you were already sleeping --”

“Come _on_.”

“-- Andrea was hanging out with another girl she didn’t know that well.”

“What was her name?"

“Not important.”

“You don’t know, do you?”

“It’s not relevant to the story,” David insists. “Now shut up and listen, or I’m going to stop right here.”

He waits a few seconds, during which Matteo actually stays quiet, before he continues. “So. They were at this other girl’s place and the girl met some neighbour or something outside that she started talking to, but Andrea really needed to go to the bathroom, so the girl gave her the keys and told her to go up before her. So, she does, and when she gets to the front door of the apartment there’s a cat sitting outside the door, as if it wants to go inside.”

Matteo frowns. “Wait, I thought this story was about a parrot?”

“You’re so impatient,” David says as he pushes one hand under Matteo’s shirt, his cold fingers making Matteo yelp, and he quickly tries to squirm away from the touch, pushing at David to make him stop. He doesn’t, though, because why would he, but after the initial shock, Matteo settles into the touch.

“Also,” David goes on, like nothing happened, “there can be more than one animal per story, there’s no limit there. So, as I said, there was a cat waiting by the door. Andrea assumed the cat belonged to her friend since it was sitting there, so she opens the door and the cat runs inside. Andrea goes to the bathroom, and when she comes out, she finds the cat right by this big bird cage.”

“ _Ohh_ , the parrot!”

“Yes,” David confirms. “But, see, the cat has somehow managed to get a paw through the bars, _and_ has got its claws stuck in the parrot’s beak. Andrea panics, of course, but before she can do anything, the cat rips the beak right off the parrot’s head.”

Matteo, whose disbelief has kept rising with every second leading up to the end of the story, just stares at David for a moment. “No _way_.”

“It’s true! Apparently the parrot lived for a while after that, but since it was very difficult for it to eat and drink it didn’t take that long before it died.”

A silence follows David’s words, during which Matteo tries to just process the whole thing. There’s only one thought solid enough for him to focus on, though.

“There’s no way this is a true story,” he tells David, who immediately protests.

“It is!”

“Were you there?” Matteo questions.

“No, but Laura told me about it.”

“Was she there?”

“No. But it’s still true.”

“People lie, David.”

“Yeah, I know,” David says, then pulls at Matteo’s hair again before continuing. “Some people say they’re tired but then they still keep talking shit all night.”

“Fuck off, I _am_ tired!”

“And that story is true!”

Matteo lets out a sigh. “Yeah, yeah, whatever you say.”

David, surprisingly, leaves it at that. Instead he pulls Matteo closer by the waist, his hand warm now, and Matteo moves so he can push his face into the space below David’s jaw. It’s quiet for a while, and at first it’s nice. Calm. David keeps stroking a hand over his side, and Matteo can feel himself relax with the touch.

Eventually, though, the silence changes into something else. It changes, in what feels like a single second, into the surreal kind of quiet, the kind that can only exist at the time where late is starting to turn into early.

Matteo has been here so many times before, felt this almost out of body experience when things feel all too real and like a dream all at once. Where the line between what’s true and what isn’t starts to look less like a line and more like a painting onto which someone had accidentally knocked over a glass of water, making the paper wet and easily broken, and the colours blend up to the point where it’s impossible to see where one ends and the other begins.

Alone, he hates this. It only manages to enhance the thoughts and feelings he’s trying to escape from. Only blends colours that don’t even have a place on the painting to begin with. It feels like the greatest failure, every time he finds himself there, like he should’ve been able to avoid it. Like he should be able to handle it better, when he does end up there.

It’s enough to deal with all that is his brain during any other time, so this silence is not a place he has any desire to exist in.

With David, it’s different. Somehow, the whole thing isn’t quite as bad then. It’s still there, but it’s more as if it’s a distant memory rather than the very present, all-consuming feeling it is when he’s alone.

Now, he can feel it starting to make its way closer to the point where he can’t ignore it any longer, so he’s grateful that David choses that exact moment to break the silence.

“So, movie?” he asks, and although Matteo had shot that idea down not even fifteen minutes ago, he’s all for it now, needing the distraction, if nothing else.

  
  


+

  
  


_three._

  
  


By the time the end credits roll, Matteo, despite everything, somehow feels even less tired than before it started. At least the movie captured his attention enough to extinguish the feeling of failure that had tried to overcome him again.

“I really thought that would do the trick,” David says when he moves to close Matteo’s laptop after realising that Matteo actually made it to the end without falling asleep, something he rarely manages even during daylight hours.

“I guess not.”

David puts the laptop on the floor next to the bed, then turns to lie down again, facing Matteo but keeping some space between them so he can look him in the eyes. “What do you wanna do?”

Matteo frowns. “What do you mean?”

“Like, do you want to keep trying until you fall asleep? Like, should we just lie here and be quiet until it happens?” David elaborates, reaching over to take one of Matteo’s hands in his own. “Or should we do something else?”

The mere thought of just lying there in the quiet feels like it’s basically the equivalent of offering himself on a silver platter for darkness to swallow him whole, so that’s out of the question. Leaving --

“Something else.”

David nods. “Okay. So, what?”

Matteo doesn’t know. The weird combo of being too tired to process thoughts properly but not tired enough to actually sleep is fucking with his mind. Still, there’s one thing he feels would be a good idea in most situations.

He does some weird half shrug with one shoulder, then puts his suggestion out there. “Kiss?”

What follows is one second of silence in which they just look at each other, and then David bursts out laughing. Which -- _rude_.

Matteo pushes at his face with an offended noise.

“Sorry!” David says, but the laughter can still be heard in his voice, so Matteo pushes him again. “Sorry!” David repeats, sounding at least a little bit more sincere now. “It’s just-- I really didn’t expect that to be the next word out of your mouth.”

Matteo snorts. “How can you not? Have you _met_ me?”

“True, I should’ve seen it coming. Despite the fact that it’s almost four in the morning.”

“Also,” Matteo adds, “I blame you for this.”

David shakes his head slightly, as if he should’ve seen _that_ coming, too. “Of course you do. Why change the record?”

“You took my _hand_ , and then you were like ‘ _or should we do something else?_ ’,” Matteo says, complete with a -- very good, thank you -- impression of David. He might have added the suggestive undertone to the words, but still. He’s making a point, okay. “How do you expect me to think about anything else?”

“I did not say it like that!” David protests, but he looks like he might start laughing again any second. “It’s not my fault you’ve got your mind in the gutter all the time and hear things the way you want to hear them.”

“Or maybe I hear what you wanted to say,” Matteo says with a smirk.

David doesn’t object any more, instead just closes his eyes with a deep exhale, his expression some mix between fond and annoyed. Matteo watches him; watches the way his eyelashes fan out across his cheeks, the way his mouth is turned up in a half-smile. And he wonders, for the millionth time, probably, how David is even real.

When David opens his eyes again, they instantly find Matteo’s, and Matteo blames the late hour for how fucking sappy his thoughts turn in that moment. But fuck, he can’t help it.

David shuffles closer then, pushing a leg in between Matteo’s as he brings one hand up to cup Matteo’s cheek -- and then Matteo doesn’t think much of anything anymore.

Matteo already knew kissing would be a great idea, but somehow the reality of it is even better.

It starts out slow, and soft, with David’s thumb stroking back and forth across Matteo’s cheek. Matteo has got one of his own hands buried deep in David’s hair, drawn there like a magnetic pull too strong for him to resist. 

After a while -- it could be anything from minutes to hours, Matteo has no idea. Who even cares about the passing of time during something as important as this? -- David moves back enough to push himself on top of Matteo, and, okay. If Matteo weren’t awake before, he definitely would be now. The added pressure of David’s weight calms him down while simultaneously making him feel like he’s on fire.

When he made the suggestion about kissing, the thought about going further than that wasn’t even on his mind, to be honest, considering how tired he was. Now, however, there are new aspects to take into account. He’s still tired, don’t get him wrong, but sleep has moved from the top of his list of priorities for the night, instead ending up somewhere closer to the bottom.

First on the list? _This_.

_David_.

The fingers Matteo has running through David’s hair stop just long enough to push David even closer, deepening the kiss. David pushes a hand under Matteo’s shirt again, and fuck. This is so good Matteo wouldn’t be surprised if he did fall asleep and this is all a dream.

Just when Matteo is about to pull on David’s shirt to get him to take it off, David breaks the kiss, much to Matteo’s dismay. He stays close, though, their foreheads pressed together as they breathe the same air.

“Do you have anything to eat?” David asks into the almost non-existent space between their lips, and it takes Matteo a moment to understand what he’s saying, too wrapped up in everything else.

“Yeah, me,” he answers pointedly, then pulls David down for another kiss before David can finish rolling his eyes at him.

David gives in, is even quick to deepen the kiss, turning it right back to their previous intensity, and Matteo forgets anything that isn’t _David, David, David_. It only lasts for a few blissful minutes, though, before they’re back to not-kissing, which -- _why_.

David even goes as far as sitting up this time -- straddling Matteo’s legs, his hands coming to rest by Matteo’s hips -- which is the complete opposite of what Matteo wants. The distance, that is. It’s enough to make the space separating them return to that ocean-wide feeling it had earlier.

“Okay, but I was actually thinking about something with some nutritional value,” David says.

“Why?” Matteo questions, reaching out to pull on David’s hands to get his focus back to what they were doing.

“Do you want me to die in this bed?” David asks with a raise of an eyebrow.

“Maybe, if that doesn’t involve me moving.”

David uses their linked hand to his own advantage, holding on tight as he starts to drag Matteo up into a sitting position. “Come on, get up!”

Matteo groans in protest, struggling against David’s grip until David abruptly lets go, making Matteo drop helplessly back onto the mattress.

“Matteo, I will _die,_ ” David whines.

“Then just go by yourself! You’ve been in my kitchen like a thousand times, and you know where we keep the food. Why do I even need to come?”

David fake pouts at him, which should look stupid, but of course it doesn’t.

“We’re in this together,” David says, making Matteo snort, even though a tiny part of him wants to melt.

Then David puts a halt to any mushy thoughts Matteo might have had as he starts fucking _singing_. 

“ _We’re all in this together_ \--”

“God, shut up!” Matteo interrupts before David can go on any further, reaching up to push at David’s shoulder for good measure. “I _will_ push you out of this bed.”

“Yeah? Try me,” David challenges.

So, naturally, Matteo does.

  
  


+

  
  


_four._

  
  


To the surprise of absolutely no one, their impromptu wrestling match ended up with both of them on the floor. And they still haven’t moved from that spot despite it having been almost half an hour now.

The lamp on Matteo’s bedside table is painting the room in a dim yellow light, having been turned on about five minutes after they hit the floor and David reached for his phone only to find it wasn’t on the bedside table where he left it. David had moved to turn it off right after his phone had been retrieved, but Matteo told him to just leave it. The light might make it more difficult to fall asleep, but it’s not like that’s happening, anyway, so it might as well stay on. Also, he can see David properly now, so how could he be complaining?

Matteo is lying flat on his back on the hard floor, which isn’t very comfortable, but he can’t be bothered to move. At least David grabbed a pillow for his head from the bed, so it could be worse. Also helping is the fact that David is using Matteo’s stomach as his own pillow, which means Matteo has easy access to his hair, which is enough to improve most situations.

David has spent the better part of their time on the floor scrolling through an endless list of buzzfeed quizzes on his phone, making Matteo answer questions to find out stupid shit like “what type of bread are you?”. 

Now, they’re in the middle of one whose title included the words “there’s no way you’ll pass this quiz”, which David has taken as a personal challenge. Although, he’s making Matteo do the actual answering of the questions, so it doesn’t really add up.

“Okay, so, what’s this thing?” David asks, turning his phone for Matteo to look at the next image to figure out what it’s supposed to be.

Matteo squints at the picture, then considers the options. “A napkin holder?” he guesses.

David takes his phone back and presses the bottom right square. “Wrong, it’s a toaster.”

“ _How_?”

“Maybe I’ll get you one of those for Christmas,” David jokes, making Matteo pull slightly on his hair. “Okay, okay, next one.”

David keeps showing him pictures of weird things for him to identify, most of which Matteo has never seen before. So, he makes a wrong guess on the majority of them, but it’s not like it matters, anyway. There’s a smile on David’s face, one that doesn’t seem like it’s going anywhere anytime soon, and that’s where most of Matteo’s attention is focused. There aren’t many things in this world that are more important than David’s smile.

“Okay, results,” David says eventually. “You got 7%, which... yeah. Could be better. But at least that means you’re ‘definitely younger than 40’,” David says, and then he lets out a sudden laugh.

“What?” Matteo asks.

“Then it says, and I’m quoting here, ‘Isn’t it past your bedtime?’”

Matteo reaches over to grab David’s phone out of his hand. “No, it doesn’t.”

“Look for yourself,” David says as he hands it over, and... he’s right.

“Huh.”

David sits up, leaving Matteo feeling weirdly cold, but he soon lies down again, this time pulling on the pillow under Matteo’s head to make enough room for himself to lie down on it as well. He takes his phone out of Matteo’s hand and puts it somewhere behind him on the floor, then turns to face Matteo again.

“I thought it wasn’t fair for you to be the only one fully on the floor,” David says, his smile closer to a smirk now.

“Is that so?”

“Uh-huh.”

“That’s very considerate of you.”

“I know.”

Matteo has to bite his lip to keep himself from laughing, because this is all so stupid. He should be asleep; they both should. They should at least be in bed. Instead there’s this.

Still, Matteo wouldn’t change a thing. Because you know what isn’t stupid? David. And as they keep looking at each other, the teasing aura that’s surrounding them starts to melt away, leaving something Matteo still doesn’t know how he managed to find. Something he still has doubts about deserving, from time to time.

He doesn’t doubt anything now, though -- how could he, when he can see everything David feels just by looking into his eyes. As if it’s a mirror, and everything Matteo gives is exactly what he gets in return. It’s overwhelming, this -- being in love, and it being a mutual feeling. It overwhelms him, but it’s the good kind, the kind that lifts him up and fills him with light instead of tries to drown him in an endless sea filled with darkness.

“You love me,” Matteo says, because he can. Because he knows it’s true.

David gives him a soft smile, which soon turns teasing again. “Are you asking me or just... stating a fact?”

“Shut up,” Matteo says. “It’s just... cool,” he adds, stupidly. Words aren’t really his thing, but it doesn’t matter. He knows David still gets it. Gets _him_.

David laughs. “Yeah. It is pretty cool.”

They lie there quietly for a moment, just looking at each other and trying but failing to hold back matching grins. And Matteo would fear the silence, only it’s nowhere near the surreal and crushing kind that threatened to ruin him earlier. This is the kind that feels like being wrapped up in a soft blanket, keeping you warm. Keeping you safe. The kind he wouldn’t mind being stuck in.

Eventually, David’s voice breaks through the quiet, reminding Matteo of why they ended up on the floor in the first place.

“Okay, so... food?”

“Oh, right,” Matteo says. He feels bad for making David wait this long, but he did tell him to go on his own, so really, it’s mostly David’s fault he’s still hungry. And Matteo still can’t be bothered to get up. “Just a few more minutes. I need to find some energy to move first.”

“I think I’ve waited long enough,” David complains. “Come on, let’s go!”

Matteo groans. “David. Just go without me.”

“I’ll even carry you to the kitchen if that’s the only way I’m getting something to eat within the next five minutes,” David says, completely ignoring the option Matteo keeps suggesting about just going by himself.

“Yeah, right.”

David doesn’t keep arguing, so Matteo wrongfully assumes he’s given up for now. Before Matteo has time to react, David is on his feet, crouched beside him, and pushes one arm under Matteo’s back, the other under his knees. Matteo is just about to ask him what he’s doing, when David fucking picks him up, bridal style, making Matteo yelp in surprise.

“David, what the fuck?” he exclaims, wrapping his arms around David’s shoulders to reduce the risk of David dropping him on the floor.

“I told you this would happen,” David says, as if that justifies things, then he takes a couple of steps towards the door.

Matteo starts to squirm in David’s grip, trying to get down. “You’re _not_ carrying me to the kitchen! Put me down!”

“I’m hungry!” David almost trips on the next step he takes, making Matteo realise he needs to put a stop to this before either of them -- or, most likely Matteo himself -- gets hurt, no matter any sacrifices he might need to make.

“Put me down and I’ll still come with you to get some food.”

“Right away?”

“Yes.”

“Promise?”

Matteo rolls his eyes. “ _Yes_. I promise.”

David studies him, as if contemplating whether or not Matteo is telling the truth, but eventually he lets go of Matteo’s legs, dropping him on his feet beside him.

“There’s no way you would’ve made it to the kitchen without dropping me.”

“Not with the way you kept moving.”

Matteo just shakes his head, letting David grab his hand to start pulling him out of the room. It only takes him a few steps before he realises his mistake, though. Maybe he had been too quick to dismiss the idea of him not having to walk anywhere. If it’s done on his own conditions, it wouldn’t actually be that bad.

So, before they get any further, Matteo lets go of David’s hand, instead taking ahold of his shoulders and jumping onto his back. David seems surprised by the move, but is quick to find his balance, grabbing on to Matteo’s legs.

“To the kitchen!” Matteo commands, making David laugh.

“I thought you didn’t want me to carry you?”

“Changed my mind. Now go.”

David does some stupid kind of half-bow, and Matteo holds on tight as the fear of being dropped makes a return. “As you wish, Mr. Florenzi.”

  
  


+

  
  


_five._

  
  


“Are you going to make me yet another inedible sandwich?”

After a surprisingly smooth ride on David’s back, they finally make it to the kitchen. And the first thing David does, after safely putting Matteo down on the floor again, is insult him.

“Shut up, you love them,” Matteo tells him, opening the fridge to look through their options. His shelf is pretty much empty -- and fuck, he meant to go to the grocery store yesterday, but then he... didn’t. He really was going to do it but then the minutes somehow turned into hours without him knowing how, and then David called and then he fell asleep and... now here they are. With basically nothing to eat, save for a few slices of cheese, one lonely tomato, and some yoghurt that would barely even cover the bottom of any bowl.

“Debatable,” David says, coming up to stand next to him. “That first one has to be the worst one so far,” he adds with a grimace.

“I still can’t believe you ate more than one bite of that.”

“Well, I liked you and I didn’t want to offend you like the first thing I did,” David says, making Matteo smirk at him.

“Aww, you liked me,” he teases, poking at David’s cheek, something David is quick to put a stop to by grabbing Matteo’s hand and pulling it away from his face.

“Yeah, _liked_ as in past tense.”

Matteo snorts. “Funny. Too bad you told me you love me like five minutes ago.”

“I didn’t say anything!” David protests. “You’re the one who said that.”

“Still, you didn’t disagree,” Matteo points out.

There’s a pensive look on David’s face for a moment, before he asks “Is it too late to do it now?”

“Yeah, sorry,” Matteo shrugs, the fingers of his free hand finding their way to David’s hair again, as if inevitable. “No getting out of this now.”

David smiles at him, in a way that makes Matteo feel important. “Good,” he says, then he leans in to press a kiss to Matteo’s lips.

It’s short, but sweet. And good. Always good. When they break apart, Matteo keeps his eyes closed for a moment, his forehead pressed to David’s as he takes a deep breath. And then another.

Eventually, he pulls back, clearing his throat. “So, ehm. What do you want to eat?”

David smiles at him again before he answers. “A sandwich is fine,” he says, making Matteo raise an eyebrow. “As long as I can pick my own toppings,” David adds in warning.

“You don’t know what you’re missing out on.”

“I think I’ll survive.”

Matteo turns back to the fridge -- which, oh, is still wide open -- to scan through it once more, this time for possible sandwich toppings. He pulls out anything he can find that’s his to use, then steals a few slices of ham from Hans, as well as some eggs that are about to expire but still seem edible.

It’s only as he goes to open the bread box that he realises that he probably should’ve made sure he even had any bread before looking for things to put on it. Luckily, he does have some left, but it’s only three slices, so it could’ve been better.

Still, it’s _something_ , at least, so he hands two of them over to David, who doesn’t waste any time starting to make a sandwich for himself. Matteo didn’t really think about it before, but with all the talk about food -- and considering the fact that he hasn’t eaten anything since before his nap, which is almost nine hours ago now -- he can’t deny he’s starting to feel hungry as well.

“We could’ve used that toaster now,” David jokes, but Matteo just hums distractedly as an answer, too focused on trying to get a frying pan out of the cupboard without waking up the entire neighbourhood in the process.

It’s a real test of his patience, but despite a few close calls where he almost drops one pan or another on the floor, he ends up successful. He doesn’t get much further than putting the pan on the stove, however, before there’s a voice coming from the entrance of the kitchen, interrupting his next move.

“Well... you’re up early.”

Matteo turns to face Hans, who’s leaning on the doorframe, dressed in a bathrobe and looking about as tired as Matteo feels. “Or late,” Matteo says.

“Can’t sleep?”

Matteo shrugs. “It’s okay.”

Hans studies him, and there’s something in his eyes that makes Matteo feel close to tears for some reason he doesn’t want to think about, so he hurries to direct his eyes to the floor instead before it’s too late. It’s only seconds later before Matteo feels a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently, and then it’s gone just as fast when Hans steps over to the fridge. He’s about to open it but stops short when Matteo decides to break through the weird sensation that overcame him by moving the subject away from himself.

“So, why are _you_ up?”

“My flight leaves at ten,” Hans answers, turning to face Matteo again, and -- _oh_. Right.

Matteo probably should’ve remembered that, because he knows Hans has told him about this trip before, a memory of having a conversation about it only a few days ago quickly resurfacing. But he didn’t remember, though. He didn’t, and the voice jumps happily out of its hiding place, ready to yell at him again.

Thankfully, David interrupts that thought. “So, are you all packed?” he asks Hans.

Hans doesn’t seem as happy about the question as Matteo is, instead he leans back against the fridge, looking deflated. “Not even close. I found out yesterday that I’m only allowed to bring a carry-on!” he says, holding up his hands about a feet apart, as if to demonstrate the size. Or at least what the size feels like to him. “How am I supposed to fit anything in there?”

“I could help, if you want,” David offers. “I’m an expert at packing.”

And, well, Matteo doesn’t know about _that_ , but David _is_ at the very least better than Matteo. Not that that really says much in this case, seeing as Matteo is nothing but a disaster when it comes to packing efficiently.

Either way, Hans looks excited now. So, that’s good. 

“Really? Oh, that would be great!”

“After I’m done with this,” David adds, pointing at the sandwich in front of him, and Hans nods.

“Yes, breakfast first,” he agrees, turning back to open the fridge. He stands there for a moment, doing nothing but staring into it, and then he faces Matteo again with a frown on his face.

“Did you take my eggs?”

Matteo takes a not-very-subtle half-step to his left, blocking the carton from Hans’ view. “No,” he lies, and Hans doesn’t even bother with a reply, just giving him a look as if waiting for Matteo to give in.

“They expire tomorrow and you’re leaving anyway, I just didn’t want them to go to waste,” Matteo rambles, making up the excuse as he goes and hoping it sounds good enough to be plausible. Also, hoping it makes him seem like at least a little less of an asshole.

“Uh-huh,” Hans says, sounding like he doesn’t believe a word of that. Which he probably doesn’t. “What if I wanted some for breakfast before I left?”

“Oh. Sorry,” Matteo mumbles, then he holds the carton out for Hans to take. “Here.”

Hans only looks between the eggs and Matteo’s face for a couple of long seconds, before gently pushing them back to Matteo. “I think there’s enough for all of us, right?”

“Yeah, probably.”

“Okay, then,” Hans grins. “Let’s make some breakfast!”

  
  


+

  
  


_six._

  
  


They’re an hour into Hans’ packing mission when Matteo gets the closest to falling asleep as he’s been all night.

As David and Hans had started to dig through the contents of Hans’ wardrobe, Matteo had planted himself face down on Hans’ bed, promptly deciding that he wouldn’t be of much help anyway, so he might as well make himself comfortable since this would most likely take a while. And, as predictable, here they are, an hour later, and Matteo is having a hard time trying to keep his eyes open.

If he had known this is what it would take, then maybe he would’ve involved Hans sooner. Or, maybe it’s only in combination with the very, very late -- or rather early -- hour, that this is doing the trick.

Either way, he’s presumably only seconds away from falling asleep when there’s a knock at the door to Hans’ room, loud enough to startle Matteo fully awake.

The small suitcase on Hans’ floor that was barely even visible the last time Matteo glanced at it due to the haphazard pile of clothes that covered it, is now standing neatly next to Hans, all zipped up and seemingly ready to go. And Matteo wonders if he actually did fall asleep for a while.

Blinking towards the doorway as he reluctantly pushes himself into a sitting position, he finds the source of the knocking.

“Perfect timing, Linn!” Hans says. “I was just about to go get you. Are you ready to go?”

Linn, who’s still dressed in what to Matteo looks like a pair of pyjamas -- a dark blue long sleeved shirt and matching pants covered in tiny white stars -- frowns at Hans. “Why else would I be here?”

“Do you want to change first?” Hans asks, raising his eyebrows in question.

“It’s really cold outside. Trust me, I know,” David adds, sending a pointed look at Matteo, who just lazily flips him off.

“I’m just going to be in the car the whole time, anyway. It’s fine.”

Hans claps his hands together as if to settle that discussion, then takes one last look around himself. “Okay, great. I’m done. Bye, my darlings! Thank you for your help,” he says, moving over to hug David. When they let go, Hans steps over to the bed and drags Matteo up into a hug as well.

“Please try to get some sleep,” he says, voice soft and so full of concern Matteo almost feels close to tears again. Fuck, being awake for this long is really making his brain feel all _off_ , making his emotions run all over the place.

“Yeah, yeah. I will,” he says, trying to casually brush it off, as if it’s no big deal. 

Still, he hugs Hans back tightly. Because it _is_ important, Matteo knows that. And that’s why he’s going to make sure tonight is just a one off, no matter how nice the night turned out to be in the end. He needs the sleep, and so he’s really going to try his best to get back into the routine he had started for himself.

Hans steps back from the hug, but he keeps one hand on Matteo’s shoulder as he uses the other one to point at David, directing his next words to him. “Make him sleep," he says, tilting his head in Matteo’s direction.

"I’ll try my very best," David promises.

“Good,” Hans says, then he clears his throat, moving to pick up his suitcase. “Okay, okay. I have to leave now or I’ll miss my flight. Although, Linn does drive like she’s practicing for a Formula 1 race, so I’d probably only need like ten minutes to get there.”

Linn rolls her eyes at him. “Ha-ha. Maybe you should walk there instead.”

Hans hurries over to Linn to crush her into a hug as well, all the while still holding on to his suitcase. “Nooo, I need you, Linn.”

“Then stop talking and let’s go, or I’m going back to bed.”

“Speaking of beds,” David says, taking Matteo’s hand to start making their way out of the room. “We should probably try to get some sleep now.”

Hans nods. “Good. So, I’ll see you in a few days! Don’t miss me too much.”

They all end up in the hallway as they say their goodbyes, Hans giving Matteo and David another hug each, and Matteo holding out a hand to fistbump Linn. And then it’s not long before the door slams shut behind them, leaving only Matteo and David and the silence. It feels weirdly quiet, especially compared to all the noise that preceded it, but it’s still nice.

Matteo leans into David’s side, the exhaustion beginning to return once more, and it feels like this is the kind that will actually lead to him falling asleep in the end. It’s a nice change from earlier, when it felt literally impossible.

“You really should sleep now,” David tells him, as if he’s been reading Matteo’s thoughts.

“You sleep,” Matteo mumbles, sounding half asleep already, even to his own ears. 

“So, back to bed?” David asks, and Matteo can’t think of anything he wants more in this moment.

“Back to bed.”

It takes most of Matteo’s remaining energy to make it as far as the living room, and by the time the couch gets into his line of sight, Matteo starts to change his mind about the bed. Any flat and comfortable surface will do. So, he begins to pull David towards the couch instead, an idea David is not on board with.

“No, come on, we’re so close now,” he argues, not letting Matteo pull him anywhere.

Matteo whines. “But the couch is even closer.”

“ _Matteo_.”

“Just five minutes,” Matteo tries, but David is quick to shoot that idea down.

“We both know it’s not going to be only five minutes.”

“ _‘We both know it’s not going to be only five minutes.’_ ” Matteo mocks, but David ignores him.

“Your bed is right there,” he says, pointing at Matteo’s doorway. “Then you don’t have to move again.”

Matteo, who’s tired enough that he would probably be on the floor by now if David wasn’t keeping him upright, doesn’t see that as a winning argument at the moment, seeing as he still needs to _get_ to the bed, somehow. And he doesn’t want to move another muscle.

After another minute of silence, David has apparently had enough of Matteo’s inability to make a decision. 

“Come on,” he says, pulling on Matteo’s hand.

It’s more David dragging Matteo to the bed than it is Matteo walking, but they get there in the end, and Matteo supposes that’s all that really matters.

  
  


+

  
  


_seven._

  
  


Matteo is starting to think it’s his bed that’s the problem, because not long after they’re under the covers once more, he feels as if he’s back to where he started; restless yet exhausted. 

At least David is here now.

“I really don’t get how you’re still awake,” he says into Matteo’s neck as he hugs Matteo even closer.

Matteo just yawns in response, which says it all, really. He’s just as clueless as David is here. Nothing about this makes any sense.

“Why do we even yawn?” David wonders out loud.

“Isn’t it to like... regulate brain temperature or something?” Matteo mumbles distractedly, most of his focus on his hands in David’s hair as he tries to interlace strands of it into small braid.

David pulls back enough to give him a sceptical look. “Did you just google that?”

“My hands are in your hair _and_ you’re literally lying on top of me, making it impossible for me to move even a little,” Matteo says. “Also my phone is... Actually, I have no idea where it is.” 

“Fuck, I don’t know where I put mine either. How do we keep losing our phones?”

Matteo wants to tell David _it doesn’t matter_ but before he can even open his mouth, David rolls off of him, most likely to go look for either of their phones. Not even Matteo’s protesting whine is enough to stop him. Fortunately, it’s only seconds before David is back to his previous position on Matteo’s chest, this time with his phone in his hand.

He keeps his eyes on the screen, pressing on it with just one hand as he’s apparently not keen on changing his position or letting Matteo go completely. As he waits for David to finish whatever he’s doing, Matteo goes back to play with David’s hair.

“Okay,” David says a moment later, reading something on his phone. “According to this website, there are only theories about why we do it, but like you said, one of them is about regulating brain temperature.”

Matteo grins cheekily at him. “I win.”

“Also,” David says, paying no attention to Matteo’s words, “it says here that they did a study somewhere about catching a yawn that said that doing so shows empathy and bonding.”

“A sympathy yawn? That sounds stupid.”

“You’re stupid,” David says, and Matteo has no choice but to let go of David’s hair to reach out and grab his abandoned pillow instead, and then use it to deliver a swift hit to David’s face. Twice.

“Stop it!” David laughs, sitting up as he tries to avoid getting hit again.

“‘ _Stop it!_ ’”

Matteo moves to go for another blow when David quickly pulls the pillow out of Matteo’s hands. David manages to get one hit in of his own before Matteo pushes him away to the other side of the bed.

“Okay, okay, enough,” Matteo says, holding his hands up in surrender. “Peace?”

“I suppose,” David sighs, letting the pillow drop to the bed, resting his head on it instead. “It wouldn’t be a fair fight, anyway.”

“Yeah, I’m too strong for you.”

“You wish.”

“It’s true,” Matteo insists.

“Do I need to remind you of our fight earlier when you ended up on the floor?”

“That doesn’t count. I was tired,” Matteo tells him, making David snort.

“Yeah, as opposed to now, when you’re not?”

Matteo says nothing, because they both know the truth. He feels as if he’s never been more tired before in his life, yet here he is, still unable to sleep despite everything. The word _failure_ starts to appear in his head again, but he doesn’t care about that anymore, because it’s not true. It’s not true and he knows that, has always known that. And he’s so fucking _done_ with everything now, including that stupid voice.

Honestly, fuck that voice and whatever it’s trying to tell him. Not sleeping doesn’t feel like as much of a failure anymore. Is it stupid? Yes. Will he regret it? Also, probably yes. But does it mean he failed, that he’s a failure? No. Fuck that.

David’s yawn pulls Matteo out of his head, and he can’t help but copy it with one of his own.

“Aww, look at us bonding,” David mumbles, and Matteo squeezes him closer, their bodies flush together once more.

“Stupid,” Matteo says, but David just hugs him back.

It’s quiet for a moment, but it’s fine. It’s good.

“Are you falling asleep?” Matteo asks after a while.

“Mhm,” David nods against Matteo’s chest. “The sun will be up soon, you know.” 

“Didn’t I already tell you that vampire stuff was bullshit?”

“Maybe you’re the vampire what with your desire to stay up all night,” David says, and Matteo lets out a tired sigh.

“I don’t _want_ to. It’s just... my brain that doesn’t want to slow down enough for me to fall asleep.”

David raises his head to meet Matteo’s eyes, then reaches out to press a finger to the tip of Matteo’s nose. “Boop. There, I turned it off.”

Matteo frowns. “Completely?”

“Yeah,” David confirms, and Matteo lets his mouth drop open in fake offense.

“I can’t believe you just killed me, just like that!”

“I won’t hesitate, bitch,” David says without missing a beat.

The only logical reaction to that is for Matteo to hit David with a pillow again. So that’s what he does.

“Okay, okay, sorry” David says, giving in surprisingly fast. He gently boops Matteo’s nose again. “There. It’s back on.”

“Thanks.”

The expression on David’s face turns pensive. “Hm... maybe there’s some other kind of switch somewhere, that just turns it down a little,” he says, then he starts moving Matteo this way and that, as if pretending to look for one.

“ _Stop_ ,” Matteo complains as David is in the middle of checking his back.

“Ah, there it is,” David says, pressing a finger into Matteo’s right shoulder blade as he pretends to find the switch. “There you go.”

“Stupid.”

“You love me.”

David’s smile is a bit teasing, but still so soft Matteo doesn’t know what to do with it all.

“Yeah,” Matteo breathes into the quiet, and David’s smile somehow gets even softer, and _god_. Matteo needs to close his eyes for a moment or he might just burst with everything he’s feeling.

When he opens his eyes again, David is still looking at him, although his eyelids seem to be getting heavier every time he blinks.

“Do you think you’ll be able to fall asleep now?” David asks.

Matteo’s hand finds David’s, intertwining their fingers. “Mhm. Thanks.”

“You don’t need to thank me for that.”

“Still.”

“Well, alright. Good night, then?” David says, but it sounds more like a question than anything else.

“Good morning,” Matteo says back, giving David one last smile before reaching out to turn off the lamp on the bedside table.

He doesn’t know if he’ll actually fall asleep, but he won’t tell David that, because it’s fine. He can make it through the rest on his own. David has kept him company for long enough, has sacrificed enough sleep for him, so Matteo doesn’t want to push it even further than this. At least one of them should get some sleep tonight.

He pulls David closer again, his arm around David’s waist and his face finding a home in David’s neck. David’s hand comes up to rest in Matteo’s hair for a moment, then moves up to trace the shell of his ear, and everything just seems to fall into place. Except for that one thing.

With the light out, the room is pitch black again, and it takes quite a while for Matteo’s eyes to readjust to the darkness. It’s quiet too, save for the sounds of David’s breathing. Even if Matteo couldn’t feel the rise and fall of David’s chest with every breath he takes, he still would be able to tell David was getting closer and closer to sleep due to the way his breaths keep getting slower and heavier.

It’s not long before David’s hand stills in Matteo’s hair, then it slides down his neck and comes to a rest on his shoulder as David eventually falls asleep.

Matteo sighs, closing his eyes and moving impossibly closer to David. He tries to focus on his breathing, making it slow and steady. Tries to think of nothing.

It doesn’t work. Matteo turns over on his back with another sigh, and that’s when he realises the room isn’t quite as dark as he first thought. The curtains must have moved sometime during the night, most likely while they were play fighting on the floor, because there’s a gap between two of them now, big enough for the first light of the day to seek its way into the room.

Matteo blinks at the light for a moment, does his best to avoid any stressful thoughts about _morning_ that want to attack him. He turns back around, closing his eyes and shutting the light out, shutting the _thoughts_ out. It doesn’t matter. 

_It doesn’t matter._ Just focus on this. On sleeping. On breathing. On David.

He can do this.

Wrapping his arms tightly around David once more, Matteo pushes his nose into David’s neck again, and breathes. In, and out. Slow. Steady. Eventually, it’s like a calm blanket settles over him. It finally finds him, making its way through the storm he has fought against, has pushed through. Has survived.

It finds him, and then he sleeps.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!! ♥♥♥
> 
> [here](https://www.buzzfeed.com/daves4/over-40-quiz?bfsource=bfocompareon&bfsource=bfocompareon) is the quiz they took if anyone cares. also, yes... matteos result is the result i got lmao
> 
> no parrots were harmed in the making of this (although that IS a true story (or at least someone told me its a true story) so... yeah.... :(:()
> 
> anywayssssss im literally gonna fall asleep any second now lmao BYE


End file.
